The Team
by Prime627
Summary: Optimus sends up a call for warriors, and what he gets is a little disappointing: a talkative mech, a mute scout, a grumpy old medic, a large former Wrecker, and an infertile femme! What was Primus thinking? But Optimus trusts Primus, so he'll keep them around and make them the family Optimus dreams about
1. Chapter 1

Optimus was expecting a group of thousands and thousands of mechs and femmes to fight, breed, and to live on the new planet he had found.

Instead, he was given a former Wrecker, a mute scout, a medic, a talkative mech, and an infertile femme.

And they say Primus has no sense of humor.

Optimus watched the line-up of Cybertronians. The femme was dwarfed by the baby of the group, and the medic was older than he was. How could any of them be any good for the cause?

"Where are the others?"

The medic, Ratchet, raised his optic ridge. "This is it, Optimus Prime."

The Prime looked at the line-up, thought about laughing, but he emained silent as he nodded a bit. "Ah..."

The little scout, Bumblebee, was trembling. Optimus sighed as he knelt and he gently soothed him. He had just lost his voice due to refusing to spill Autobot secrets. In Optimus' opinion, he was one of the bravest Autobots he had known. If only he was older, more skilled...

Optimus stood and looked back down at the team. No matter what he wanted, Primus had sent these warriors to him when he needed them. He would give them a chance.

He let them into small silo that he had gotten from a human ally, Agent William Fowler. He gave them each their own quarters and he supplied them with the blankets and pillows he had snatched from Cybertron and from the human ally. When they were settled, the Prime went to go for a walk. He set the GroundBridge coordinates for a famous forest, then he Bridged to his location.

But he was not alone. He found that out after he took a few steps and he heard soft pede steps behind him.

Someone was following him, but it wasn't a Decepticon. The being was too light to be the medic or the former Wrecker and yet too heavy to be the femme.

He narrowed it down to the little scout and he smiled slightly in amusement. The little one was brave.

He sat down by a river and he let the scout believe he had tracked him silently for the moment before he looked over at him. The scout bleeped in shock and fell backwards, which further amused Optimus.

"You are very very brave, little one, but you need to learn to walk silently. I knew you were behind me five seconds into the walk." He helped Bumblebee up, sitting him beside him.

The scout slowly moved clsoer, and Optimus looked down at him which made him freeze. He frowned. Did he scare the little one? No, the scout was worried he had overstepped.

"You are fine," he promised.

Bumblebee pressed against his side and Optimus realized how young he was.

He was just a little youngling who had probably been drafted by officials in place of his sire. He regretted that part of the war, but it was their reality. Optimus wished it wasn't so, though it was too late to change anything.

"Do you want a story?" He looked down at the big-opticed mechling.

The little one nodded in delight.

"Long ago, before the Golden Age of Cybertron, there were thirteen beings..."

Bumblebee moved between the Prime's legs, resting his helm on his knee and he blinked up at him as Optimus recounted tales of the Thirteen Primes. The Prime had taken to stroking his helm as he spoke and he would smile and wink whenever he came to a joke in the story.

The little scout was growing tired quickly, and he was losing body heat as the moon rose higher and higher into the sky. Optimus finished the final story quickly and he scooped the little being up.

Ratchet the medic was busy organizing his lab when Optimus Bridged back into base. The medic stared at Optimus in shock, then he saw the scout. "What happened?"

"Stories," he said simply, and he laid the scout in his berth. He tucked the scout into the sheets and waited for the little one to cease shivering before he went to check on the others.

Arcee had taken to resting with her new mate, the chatty mech known as Cliffjumper. Optimus felt weird checking on them, but he knew that he had to.

Cliffjumper was wrapped around his femme, keeping her helm against his chest. Optimus delicately pried them apart to make sure that the femme was breathing and that the mech had healed slightly from the wounds he sustained while fighting Shockwave on Cybertron. Both were fine, and Optimus returned them to their embrace.

Bulkhead was next. He was a large mech, and Optimus would often get scared that the mech had stopped breathing because he would go into such a deep sleep that it would slow down considerably. The Prime pulled the extra large blanket back over the mech, touching his helm before he left him to dream.

Ratchet was waiting for him in the MedBay. He let the Prime examine him and he batted him away when Optimus found a wound. "Optimus," he growled.

"You need stitches," the Prime said and he pushed the medic down. "What did you do, anyway?"

"I fell."

"On what?" The wound was on the inside of his thigh.

"A ship, or part of it."

Optimus washed the wound, growling lowly in frustration. His digits were almost too big. He then started to stitch the wound closed, and he was happy that Primus had not decided that the Prime needed even bigger servos.

When he finished, he looked up at the medic. He decided that if the mech would not sleep, he would have to drug him himself. So he stood.

He had taken some form of medical classes and he knew a servoful of remedies which included ways to sedate a Cybertronian. He mixed the liquid that would do just that with a chemical that would ensure no infection would come to the wound.

He injected the mech, purring lovingly when the medic started to fall asleep.

"You...drugged me...?"

"Mm. Perhaps," he said as he lifted him off the berth.

He laid the medic in the quarters meant for him and he tucked him into the sheets. "Rest," he whispered even though the medic was out cold.

As the Prime listened to the snores and happy sleeping noises, he realized that he didn't have just a team.

He had a blooming family that will be nearly inseparable.

He smiled as he closed his optics, and he dreamed of the family he would have in a matter of months.


	2. Chapter 2

Optimus couldn't watch his team flounder around anymore. He buried his face in an open palm.

They were scrabbling for purchace in the middle of an oil puddle meant to engage them in physical contact and teamwork.

_This is stupid!_ became a chant. Bumblebee had fallen down several times and now he was laying on his belly as he mewed for someone to help him back up, but Ratchet and Cliffjumper were too busy arguing and Arcee was gripping her mate for support. Bulkhead was too busy trying to keep his balance to notice anything.

Optimus stepped out onto the oil and he made his way to the team. "Stop arguing and look at me."

They did.

"Loop your arms around everyone. Form a circle. That is it," he praised. He helped Bumblebee to his pedes and he made sure to support him more than Bulkhead, who had finally gotten the hang of standing in oil. "Step one," he announced, and he took a step.

They scrabbled to copy him and Cliffjumper's half of the circle went down.

"Okay, what did that tell you?" Optimus pressed them to speak. They had to be vocal, too.

Arcee chimmed in. "Perhaps...we are not..." She frowned. Optimus could see she knew the answer, but she couldn't speak, or give voice to it. She didn't know how to describe the lack of trust they had for each other.

"You have to trust. You have to hold onto each other, okay? Get physical." He watched them knit themselves together before he announced he was going to make another step.

This time they stumbled, but righted themselves quickly, especially when Optimus drew the circle in closer. Soon, they were in a flower formation with Bumblebee in the center.

An idea struck Optimus. They were five steps away from finishing, and he knew that they had only learned to work in one formation. He wanted them to be perfect.

So he made them go the other way. Nobody groaned. Optimus wondered if they even saw that they were so close to being done.

They spread out, becoming a larger O with no center. Bumblebee drew away from Optimus reluctantly. He still couldn't keep his balance long, but that was okay, especially since Optimus and Arcee were keeping him steady.

They made it back to the middle of the oil puddle before Optimus changed their position again. This time they were facing out and had their arms in an awkward position, but the Autobots seemed to enjoy the little exercises now.

They headed out of the puddle and Optimus gave them all approving looks.

"You may bathe now. I am very proud of you all."

Bumblebee hugged him, and since he was covered in oil, Optimus got a tattoo. He chuckled and rubbed his helm fondly.

Cliffjumper guided his mate into the wash racks and Optimus herded the others in after them.

"All in one stall," he said as he grinned. He helped everyone get the oil off their armor, then he checked Ratchet's wound. Bumblebee climbed onto his back and found his way onto his shoulders. Cliffjumper held Arcee up, her legs wrapped around his hips.

Optimus watched them fondly, then he set Bumblebee down on the floor of the shower so he could turn the water off.

"It is late," he said as he knelt. "We have to get occustomed to this world's time instead of our own." He lifted Bumblebee up and he led the team out of the stall.

He laid Bumblebee down on his berth and he watched the youngling sleep for a moment before he stepped out.

He nearly tripped over Ratchet, who was waiting for him.

"You really think these little games will knit this band of 'bots together?"

Optimus looked at Bulkhead, then at Arcee and Cliffjumper, down at Ratchet, and over at Bumblebee.

"Mere games will not. But we have made the first step in making not only a team, but a family, and I cannot stop now."


End file.
